 | Gathered poems of Ernest Myers |  |
98
A MARCH DAY
This day of sleet and evil cheer
How different dawned that roving year,
Revealing through the half-lit haze
The blue divine Ionian bays.
How bright beneath Phæacian trees
Anemone and iris glowed,
The olives scattering in the breeze
Dark fruit upon the flowery road.
How different dawned that roving year,
Revealing through the half-lit haze
The blue divine Ionian bays.
How bright beneath Phæacian trees
Anemone and iris glowed,
The olives scattering in the breeze
Dark fruit upon the flowery road.
Ionian earth, Ionian sea
Are vanished from me utterly;
The dull roofs drip, almost it seems
That sea and earth were fading dreams.
So long the wide and deathlike wings
Of winter have possest the land,
Almost our souls those radiant things
Remember not nor understand.
Are vanished from me utterly;
The dull roofs drip, almost it seems
That sea and earth were fading dreams.
So long the wide and deathlike wings
Of winter have possest the land,
Almost our souls those radiant things
Remember not nor understand.
99
What then? The Northman's lot be ours!
Yield we the South her year-long flowers,
Her lizard on the glowing stone,
Her glittering sea's mild monotone.
Though her rich scenes we gladly range
And nurse their memory never pale,
For all her charm we would not change
Our Ocean-mist, our Ocean-gale.
Yield we the South her year-long flowers,
Her lizard on the glowing stone,
Her glittering sea's mild monotone.
Though her rich scenes we gladly range
And nurse their memory never pale,
For all her charm we would not change
Our Ocean-mist, our Ocean-gale.
Nay, yet wait on, the tardy smile
Of Nature to our wintry isle
Shall reach, and make us kin once more
To that rejoicing southern shore.
We too shall feel some morn in May
As felt Alcæus hearkening,
When in the Lesbian dales he lay
And heard the footstep of the spring.
Of Nature to our wintry isle
Shall reach, and make us kin once more
To that rejoicing southern shore.
We too shall feel some morn in May
As felt Alcæus hearkening,
When in the Lesbian dales he lay
And heard the footstep of the spring.
| Gathered poems of Ernest Myers | |